Invite Your Inner Artist
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Wow I feel like such a marketer right now. The future is so now. Thanks for checking in.
This is to let you know that this blog is undergoing a complete re-org. It will emerge cleaner, prettier, and most importantly, easier to use.
I am hoping the new site will appear easy, effortless, and super profesh.
However, all that will be an illusion. In the meantime, I have read gobs of biz dev books, availed myself of a top marketing guru, and boned up on tons of design expertise that is guaranteed to do magic to my web presence. I’ve read a zillion blogs. I’ve rummaged through gazillion templates. I’ve written and rewritten my content, and then rewritten that. The part of branding that involves making your services mesh with what your user needs…that part is morphing daily. Me, I’m the same. But my mission involves you, and those like you, getting more of the great life that creative practice offers. After all, what good is knowing cool stuff if only a few people get to profit from it?
Please anticipate a fabulous new site.
For you, the user, it will offer better and more timely information about how to shift your creative urge into overdrive. With any luck it will give you easier tools and more options. You will be able to find what you want quickly. You’ll be able to interact with others who share your quest. And, it’ll help keep your teeth whiter. (Okay, not that last part.)
In all seriousness, though, it’s time to trade the sturdy old car for a sleek new machine.
Please stay in touch. There will be something shiny soon…
In spite of the fairly stable life I lead, I’ve always loved risk and adventure. The past few days have served to remind me why. Without leaving my home town, I feel I’ve been on a fascinating, fun journey.
Saturday afternoon I learned to walk a tightrope. And swing myself up onto a trapeze, juggle, and bounce on a trampoline. I’d be lying if I said I’d mastered these arts; but my skill level is far beyond what it was last week. And it’s more than I expected it to be after two hours in a circus arts facility. Their mantra was “you’ll simply be using your muscles in unexpected ways”. The exhilaration of trying and even gaining a small amount of skill in a new activity was awesome. It reminds me that using my muscles in new and unexpected ways is a great way to feel unstuck. I felt like I’d been in a new and foreign place, and all the while behaving like a slightly different person. It was a blast.
Next, I have been informed by friends, comes karaoke.
Yesterday I had the privilege of being coached by someone I don’t know, far across the globe. Something about her great skill as a coach, the sense of big picture Skype connection, and where I was, came together as some of the most powerful coaching I’ve ever had. I feel transformed, deeply shifted, changed for the better. She kept the coaching moving toward harder, more elusive areas; I was shocked at what was there. And yet, I’m deeply grateful for what we found. There is no going back from insight like that. It was truly astounding, and makes me yearn to offer others coaching of such quality.
Still deep in thought, I went for a walk in a park I rarely go to, expecting the many trees to be bare and depressing. Again, nothing was as forecast. Yellow leaves rested in warm sun, branches decorated with black birds. The lake lay perfectly still while paddlers and geese noisily dipped in. Pedestrians filled the trails and pathways, hoods down, faces tipped toward the light. Off came my gloves and for the first time that day I really relaxed. An hour later, gray returned and rain came down. But by then my hands were warm and I’d gotten enough impromptu beauty to hold me.
Finally, I met some people in a restaurant lounge to celebrate a friend’s birthday. Though this place is close to where I was born, I am sure I’ve never been there. I would remember, because it has clearly not been redecorated since the days of the Mary Tyler Moore show. The psychedelic upholstered booths, the blond wood, the colonial-style bar stools; all that was missing was a harvest gold fondue pot. One of the party guests, a large man with a beard who makes documentaries, came wearing his full-sized bunny suit. People drank mojitos, in spite of the night’s cold dreariness. Or maybe because of it. Needless to say, I felt like I’d been uploaded to another dimension, one with plenty of movie-geek passions and snorting laughter. I found common cause with another George R. R. Martin fan, and a new acquaintance who also likes my favorite guilty-pleasure T.V. Show (Boardwalk Empire). The complete lack of currency of the place made it feel much more relevant than any contrived, hipster bar. Because our venue had no cool factor, we could let our geek flags fly. Or bunny suits, as the case may be.
The drive home seemed far too short, given how transported I felt.
What departures could you make? What movements, what lessons, what visions are available to you right where you are?
Okay, sometimes I do feel like one of those cheesy pop-up marketers; hey Creatives, try this amazing trick!
And yet, once you start talking to people about what works for them to get their creative practice going, certain ideas pop out and must be shared. For the good of all, as it were.
So here it is: a stop watch. Or timer, cell timer, or alarm clock. Anything with a built-in timer that will ring/buzz/play a snappy tune when the time is up.
It’s a phenomenon of our modern age, apparently, that we respond to the notion of outside authority timing our work better at times than our internal knower. Not so mysterious, if you think about. We are trained to take standardized tests from elementary school on. The clock ticking is what gets many of us through our work day. Ever punched a clock? The metallic thud of an internal mechanism demonstrating to payroll how many hours you worked, and thus how big a check you will be cut, is unforgettable. The clock equals money.
So some people leverage that power to get working. And, according to my extensive research (anecdotal, but my monkeys, ahem, people, are great story tellers), setting a timer somehow focuses them and gets them working. It allows them a feeling of control they don’t otherwise have. And, it allows them to know when they get to feel satisfied and pleased with themselves. Objectively, with all the authority a mechanized device can deliver. The knowledge that the timer has gone off feels great. And many people choose at that point to work for longer…and it feels like something they are choosing, not a random flow event, but a real pursuit of excellence. The difference for this subset of Creatives is tangible and noteworthy. Doesn’t it make you curious?
So if you are looking for ways to motivate, to get that proverbial thud, try setting a timer. There is reason to believe that it will work where other methods (see, checking email and then folding the laundry and then sitting down and then remembering paperwork that needs to be filed, etc.) have sometimes failed.
Let me know; but wait until the alarm has sounded.
As always, I am observing and learning what works, and what isn’t all that helpful.
A couple of insights from recent forays into the field (okay, into my field, which involves talking to people intimately about their creative process).
One technique I had promoted as part of an overall “get to work” scheme came back to me as hugely helpful. I was surprised at the profound impact this practice had. It’s simply No Negative Consequences for not meeting your goals. Now, I think it works to have goals and make sincere efforts to live your commitments. But with that, if you simply don’t make the ninety minutes or the ten pages or whatever it is…no harm to self or others.
This turns out to be revolutionary. People are so used to the stick, the idea that they have full permission — nay, admonishment — NOT to beat themselves up, penalize themselves, or in any way take out disappointment/frustration on their poor Artist, seems like being told they no longer have to wear those painful braces or high heeled shoes. Or, they no longer have to hit themselves with metaphorical wooden clubs like the monks in “Life of Brian”.
If they can resist that pattern, which we ingrain in people, to punish unmet goals…guess what happens? Their Artist, poor, long-suffering soul that it is, willingly agrees to be more cooperative. People experience an immediate and powerful shift.
The pain is almost always administered unconsciously, based on some ancient model of a schoolyard social contract (or so I suspect, I’ll get back to you when there’s scientific proof). But when the human being who is trying to build a work habit realizes the pattern…set up goal that is too high, fail to meet goal, punish self, repeat…he often makes a more supportive choice. Such as, chose a goal that he can and will meet next time.
Try it. My test subjects report to me that the knowledge of how grim and stark their inner manager was, put them in a choice mode they had never even considered before. But here’s the thing; if you can uncover your bad motivation practices toward your inner Artist, you are absolutely in charge of modifying them to methods that suit you better.
One of my monkeys — okay, students — told me that simply the notion that her life IS FOR HER gave her permission to move from self-hurt to more compassion.
So, you dear reader, have my permission, and in fact my strong urging, to go forth and be kind to yourself, to your Artist, and to everyone else who falls short from time to time. If being nice to yourself can get you to work more, why not? Especially if you’re feeling stuck now — you don’t have a lot to lose by negotiating kindly with yourself.
One more tool that I advocate, that is also hard for people to grasp, is the notion of CELEBRATION.
We’re taught that inviting people to come and acknowledge an accomplishment ought to come when someone OUT THERE deems it worthy.
Here’s the problem with that logic; it rewards you for selling out. Okay, maybe selling out is your plan. If you can succeed with that, please, celebrate all you want. I’ll see you at Dr. Drew’s, because that is where people who confuse professional partying for a real accomplishment wind up. As a culture, we do have a problem with this narcissistic confusion, and it’s terrible to see.
But what I’m talking about here is the opposite of being fabulous just for its own sake, and pleasure seeking because you’ve lost the ability to feel alive. I’m talking about looking at your own accomplishments AS YOU DEFINE THEM. Yes, it means taking back the authority to determine what your goals are, what meeting them looks like, and when you want to reinforce your own ownership over your voice.
So, in my experience, taking a pause to raise a glass and toast a draft finished (not necessarily loved by readers, but finished), or a work schedule adhered to for six months (after years of feeling stuck), or even a story finished and sent off (without word back); these kinds of celebrations reinforce the notion that the PROCESS is worthy. That other people, that faceless tribe of audience or arbitrary gatekeepers of the Industry, those are not the ultimate authorities over your Artist. YOU ARE.
So consider taking a friend out and insisting you share a slice of delicious, fattening something, and tell the story of obstacles overcome, ideas hatched, and work created. It is your inner gift, that spark you honor when you work, that deserves applause. Allow it that moment, that pause to reflect and feel joyful; then when and if the world lines up to celebrate your great accomplishments, you’ll be able to nod and smile and politely agree.
Yes, you are an Artist. Cheers!
So far, in my explorations of what blocks people and what frees them to create, I’ve neglected one of the biggest causes of derailment. Why? Because it’s a difficulty for me as well as any other creative person. This big, bad stumbling block is criticism.
We all know that the word criticism doesn’t have to carry a negative connotation. But even if peoples’ judgements of our work is positive, it raises the question; is what I have to offer worthwhile? Because the line between getting it and not is fine. The risks of putting our work out there are great.
Being judged can be crippling for artists. It can keep us locked in silence. As sensitive, intuitive souls, sometimes the safety of not producing work is almost preferable to the terrifying specter of the world’s response. We’ve all seen great artists unable to contend with fame, with the public’s expectations. Most of us know how much it hurts to be misunderstood. Some of us would prefer the failure of not doing authentic work over the shame of trying and failing — even if the failure is only in the eyes of others.
So what to do? There are three things I know of. I’d love to learn more. If you know any, please do share them. The world could use any and all good techniques.
1. Taking criticism is a muscle. If you can allow yourself to enter into a workshop or group and listen to the judgment of others, it will get stronger and hurt less. One of the lessons learned is that other people are all just individuals, and their judgements are really only their own and not yours. If you can keep moving forward, keep working, the sting will subside. The trick is to keep inching forward.
2. Support can help. Artists form groups, colonies, salons; places where their war wounds are not only welcome, they are the price of admission. The bond between those who show their work and keep working is real. Find comrades in arms, and be as vulnerable with you can allow yourself to be with them. They will take it as a cue to do the same, and all will benefit.
3. Finally, and please take this with a grain of salt – criticism is a way to learn and get better. It is what stands between you and good work, if you can learn to use it. Within negative reactions there are those you know in your gut have truth. Use that. Learn to differentiate between what is their stuff and what is something you recognize. And by all means, take in and cherish good reactions. For many of us, accustomed to living in a alone with our demons, learning to accept praise is almost as challenging as taking complaints. But even there, judicious use of intuition will provide some ground to stand on; you are the authority on whether the information is relevant or not. Develop that skill. It can help you.
I dream of being able to take the sting out of criticism, so that artists can spend more time working and less time scaling the wall to safety. It takes a lot of energy to be a non-working artist. It erodes ones’ sense of self, of worth, of identity. Knowing you have a voice that needs to be used and yet fearing the consequences if you do can be confusingly toxic. If only the choice of hiding would guarantee safety and happiness. But it doesn’t. It only wastes one of life’s most precious commodities; talent.
What would you do, if you knew people would get it?
A friend left an apple and a thank you note at our local apple store. Many of us feel the same way. Steve Jobs demonstrated so many aspects of leadership, innovation, and creativity. In this TED talk, he demonstrates wisdom as well.
You are loved. You are part of a great and compassionate universe and you are loved. No matter whom you sleep with, you sleep every night under a canopy of infinite heavens, and by the grace of unseen forces you can often see the stars in these heavens, and are held to the earth and oxygenated by the air and fed by the world of plants and animals and all these miracles — the miracle of gravity, of quantum physics, of photosynthesis and respiration and cell division, all these laws and processes, all these mysteries only faintly described by math, all these things are forms of love. We are held together by all this — all of us, dogs and cats and zebras and you and me. We crazy, arrogant creatures full of illusion and rage and self-pity are held by this stuff in an unshakable embrace; we are in it and of it; we belong to it; its substance is our substance; there is no difference between us and a star.
-Cary Tennis
I just love this quote.
The New Yorker just published a story of how coaching improved a surgeon’s performance. The doctor, also author of the article, feels that coaching could improve performance in many professions. Have you ever considered hiring a coach? If so, I encourage you to check it out.
I recently compiled a pile of data on work habits from a bunch friends of mine who are working, productive artists/writers/film makers. Some of these are similar to ideas I’ve read in books, but in this case, they come from the real lives of people I know and respect. Somehow, that makes me believe them more easily. I hope there is information there for you. As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts! Thanks to those who generously shared their secrets…
-Handling the Internet; many people found self restrictions on the web, as in, they separate where they check the web from where they work. Some lament that they really struggle with this. A surprising number of people actually checked certain sites as part of their “getting down to work” activity. ESPN, Slate, news sources, and Facebook factored into many people’s day but as part of settling in and not really as a distraction. I myself love Design*Sponge – it’s pretty and it makes me think pretty thoughts.
-Work Goals; many people found a goal to be helpful, a page count, word count, or a specific part of an art series. Others had time goals only. Others had a goal simply to get to the END, and chips fall where they may, regardless of how that broke down or how perfect the initial draft was; it didn’t matter. Generally, goals tended to be good but not making goal had to come without negative consequences of any kind. Some writers make a time distinction between “writing” and “rewriting”, i.e. four hours per day was a maximum count for first draft work, but rewriting was easier and might use up eight hours. Some people swear by 5-6 days a week of work and several people preferred to work in the morning.
-Rewriting/Revising; people usually negotiate a way to get close to where they left off, because they can get caught rewriting the stuff that came before. I heard things like, “I speed forward to the end and try not to look at what I did yesterday”. If they start re-reading, they will never get to the place where they have to do new work. Others found that reviewing got them right into the zone and there was no seam between that and new work. Highly individual. My observation is that because revising is less energy intense than first draft work, it tempts people such as myself to clock in the time without really using my machete.
-Exposure to work; if you want to write a pilot or a feature, read some of what you’re emulating. But not too much. You can easily get stuck here. But if used properly, observing a bit of the type of work you’re doing can help move you forward.
-Music was very important to some people (including me). I was surprised that no one I spoke with lit a candle or changed their environment much. However, many people mentioned hot beverages. Coffee, tea, and while no one admitted it, tobacco, the age-old triumvirate of crutches.
-Being out of the house or in a private space was important to some people. Others, it was not at all – I suspect those who have a designated work space don’t think about what it would be like not have that – though a couple of people stated explicitly that they didn’t need anything but a surface to be productive. Some people cited walking and sleeping were needed during highly productive periods. For me, knowing I won’t be interrupted is huge. I can work anywhere if I know no one is going to mess with me.
-Scheduling; surprisingly effective for some. The smart phone calendar alarm actually worked for some; when the alarm sounded, they got to work. Others had child care in the offing (not at all uncommon), and used it to spur their creativity – they stated that knowing their child care was ending forced them to be productive. Amy Holden Jones told me she wrote Mystic Pizza on a typewriter in a closet on location in Vancouver while her two small children were napping.
-Handling materials. An artist who goes in and puts her hands on the materials and tools she uses finds no need for additional inspiration. It really seems to work for some people to simply show up.
-Trust Pavlov. Almost everyone I spoke to reported that they can hook into an almost addiction-like sensation of being in the work. Some spoke of the flow-y feeling of time just going by. Someone said, just starting is the only hard part. “All roads lead to Rome’, meaning, whatever you’re trying to say or grappling with, show up for the work and it WILL emerge.
-Lack of Attachment to Outcome. This one is tricky, but almost all the artists and writers I spoke to mentioned it. It means, no one day or one piece of work is precious. As one person stated, the word ritual suggests imperative, which is the enemy of outcome. I know that the rebel in me hates to be told what to do, and prefers to work around anyone else’s expectations. Approaching work in a non-groovy, humble way seems quite helpful, as in Creative Practice, not Perfect.
-Money = Value. More than one screenwriter I talked to mentioned that expecting to make a living or sell something is death. Not just a negative, but actually counter productive. Expecting or even hoping to be paid somehow contorts the process for some people and makes it hard to do authentic work. It helped to look at all the work as potential shredded material, and not as special. It’s almost a mind trick; like applying to a college and telling yourself you “probably won’t get in”. But you are free to try.
-Keep Moving. Don’t rest on laurels, don’t get bogged down in taking notes, but keep moving ahead. If you hook in to response to what you have done, you short circuit what comes next. Something about looking at the work as a process allows more learning; whatever people think of what you did yesterday, you’re doing new work today. It keeps you supple. More than anything, I think this is the mark of a real professional (i.e. someone who isn’t an amateur). The knowledge that no one negative response or one glowing review can define you as an artist is highly liberating. It allows the humility that underlies all good work. It is the best antidote to grandiosity.
